What is Expected of Her
by Mrs Bella Riddle
Summary: Andromeda knew that, as a Black, she was expected to marry a man like Rabastan Lestrange. However, she could not stop thinking about Ted Tonks.


**A/N:** This is written for round two of the Word Limit Competition with the prompt 'what we do', round one of the Seven Challenges Competition and the Favourite House Boot Camp with the prompt 'duress'.

)o(

The tight silk dress that adorned Andromeda was flattering and attractive revealing her shapely curves and emphasising her attractiveness. She knew the looks it generated were only positive, but she could only mentally curse the fabric; it made her sweat and made it difficult to breathe.

Still she ensured she stood tall and proud with smile painted on her scarlet lips that admittedly did not reach her deep brown eyes. She did not need this. She did not need to spend her night socialising and conversing with those who did not matter. After eighteen years of living in the Upper Class pureblood circles, Andromeda knew what everyone would say and do. It was a pointless exercise when everything was so predictable.

However, she could not object. It was what Blacks do. It was the task of a Black lady to attend all parties thrown by appropriate candidates and to socialise and be polite and proper. Andromeda was well aware of the theory. It was quite logical to create minimal fuss and to merely listen to the yabbering of dull and foolish individuals. She preferred that then creating any problems.

Regardless, the timing was awful. She needed time to think. It was not the sort of problem that could be taken lightly. Saying yes was against everything that she should do, but she could not help but examine her answer. Her brain knew it was illogical and would have terrible consequences, but her heart could not help but consider Ted's proposal.

He had asked her to marry him. The ring he had forced into her hands and refused to keep was upstairs hidden in her bedside table from where it had stayed since he had posed the question, yet it called to her. It urged her upstairs to run her fingers over the diamond and the silver band.

She forced those thoughts away. They were traitorous and wrong. She was still a Black. She might not have believed in all of their extreme views, but they were her family. She could not turn away from them. They formed the foundation of her life. She could not cut them away. It would cause her to tumble completely and for all her plans and visions for the future to wither away.

Instead she tried to force the corners of her lips higher and nod along with Rabastan's words. He was an attractive man. He certainly was a better fit for the traditional definition of the word than Ted with a height of well over six foot, sculpted cheekbones and dark carefully trimmed hair. Even when he placed his hand on her waist and pulled her into the dance floor there was a minor attraction produced by the physical contact and, when he danced, he was graceful and knew all the moves.

That was not Ted. Ted was shorter than her and his frame was a little too round. His cheeks were chubby and he had no grace. However, he made her laugh. He made her stomach lift and swell like it was filled with helium. He was so very kind and she was never more comfortable when she rested in his arms.

"You look very pretty tonight," Rabastan said softly as they danced at the exact correct distance from each other. "But then you always do."

Andromeda did not flinch or blush at the words. They were expected. It was just the problem; everything could be predicted. There was not interest or intrigue. However, she did not show that and nodded along with him. "Thank you. You look very handsome yourself."

If she was a good Black she would marry Rabastan. Bella looked like she would soon marry Rodolphus so the family was obviously a proper name. It was what she should do.

However, despite the fact she continued the conversation through numerous appropriate and safe topics, she felt nothing from Rabastan. Could she allow herself to be contained merely because it was what she should do? She could hope that she would never be forced to marry, but could she live her life on a mere hope.

Could she live her life on the duress that she should always do what a good Black should do?

Before the song had even finished, she withdrew her arm from Rabastan's waist and stepped back. "Sorry," she said softly trying to keep herself composed, but her smile had already turned into more of a grimace. "I just have to go and powder my nose."

Rabastan did not even get the chance to reply before she dashed off. She refused to turn around and look at his face and instead continued walking.

A good Black would not have left an eligible pureblood man like Rabastan alone on the dance floor.

A good Black would not have left a party and dashed up to her room to escape the purebloods who should have been their friends.

A good Black would not have kneeled beside her bed and slid a muggleborn's ring on her finger.

The first genuine smile of the night lit her face that the thought of only Ted could produce. She knew she loved him, but was that enough. Logically it was not but the thought of marrying anyone other than Ted was sickening.

Ted was the only man who could be her husband.

Still stroking her ring, her legs shook but she slowly approached her wardrobe.

It was time to leave.

It was time to start a new moment of her life.


End file.
